


Like Kerosene

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [15]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA V, Fake AH Crew, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 00:53:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: Ryan has a few options available to him.





	Like Kerosene

**Author's Note:**

> A super late prompt fill for Anon who asked for "You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen" with Gavin and Ryan. :D?

Ryan has a few options available to him. 

He can make the drive across town to the apartment he keeps in a nice neighborhood where his neighbors think he's a nice young man always off on business trips. Everyone minds their business and only speak to each other as much as polite society demands. 

_Or -_

He can go to Gavin's apartment which is a few minutes drive in roughly the direction of thataway where the neighbors are all nosy old biddies who fret and fuss over Gavin like he's their own. Take him baked desserts on the weekends and bring him leftovers because he's nothing but skin and bones. They all agree that Ryan's certainly a nice young man, but not a single one of them think he's worthy of Gavin's affections. 

Something Gavin loves to mock him about endlessly, go all doe-eyed sweet young thing who's never done anything wrong in his life. Get them side-eyeing Ryan like they're trying to decide the best way to hide his body, which is just all kinds of ironic.

“Ah, fuck it,” Ryan says, because really.

He's just too damn tired after being out of town on a job for Geoff and the prospect of braving Los Santos' traffic at this time of hour is not appealing in any way. 

So.

Thataway it is.

========

Gavin's a popular guy, here in Los Santos.

Always has been even before he accepted Geoff's offer and started working for the Fake AH Crew. 

Services as an above average hacker and ability to keep his damn mouth shut make for a valuable combination in this line of work. Has earned him some powerful connections over time, and, unfortunately, just as many powerful enemies.

Sometimes Ryan forgets about that last bit because Gavin's more than capable of looking after himself. Knows how to use a gun, although he does better with a sniper rifle in his hands than the handgun he carries. Has picked up an appreciation for knives from Ryan and enjoys helping Ryan tinker with things that go boom.

He's clever and resourceful and a tricky little bastard who's gotten himself out of more messes than Ryan cares to think about because this is Gavin. Stubborn little idiot who sticks that nose of his where it doesn't belong all the damn time. Ends up in over his head before he knows it, has trouble knocking at his door.

Or in this case slipping in through a back window and clearly not expecting to find Ryan passed out on the couch. (The bedroom was too far away and Gavin's out somewhere and Ryan has his moments of weakness too.)

The guy's not the stealthiest of intruders, really, and Ryan's waiting for him when he makes his way into Gavin's living room.

“Uh,” Ryan says, too tired to think of a witty one-liner as he comes face-to-face with some hired thug clearly looking to take care of an idiot hacker in his own home. Send a message or some such, or maybe he thought it'd be an easy hit, who knows. “Hey.”

The guy looks terrified, hand shaking slightly as he stares up at Ryan, and oh, right. 

The mask.

Gavin jokes sometimes, that it might as well be glued to Ryan's face as much as he wears it, but honestly Ryan just forgets about it sometimes. Too much wearing it for sure, but it's done s a lot to gain him the reputation he has, and he's upgraded it over time. Gone from the cheap rubber mask he picked up somewhere at the last minute to something a little more comfortable, enough that he falls asleep in it from time to time.

“Look,” the guy babbles, voice high and reedy. “No one told me you were on this job too, okay? You want to kill this fucker, you got it. No problems from me.”

Ryan blinks, not really listening as the guy goes on and on and on. Fear making him stupid, the kind who lets names fall out of his mouth that really, really,shouldn't. Tells Ryan exactly who hired him and why because hey, they're clearly working for the same people here, no need for things to get ugly, right?

He makes a mental note to look into things later, _after_ , because with Gavin at the center of things it's a damn good bet this guy won't be the last.

“Right,” Ryan says, and it's either the tone of his voice or the guy's natural twitchiness that sets the guy off.

Lets him know he won't be walking out of here when it's all said and done, and Ryan's still tired. Only managed to grab a half hour of sleep if that before this asshole broke in, so his reflexes aren't quite up to speed. It's over in the blink of an eye, and Ryan ends up with a bullet graze on his side before the guy goes down with a knife in his throat. (And thank God Gavin invested in a place with thick walls where sound doesn't carry or this would get awkward real fast.)

Ryan sighs as he looks at the body, small and broken and making a fucking mess all over that statement rug Gavin picked up somewhere. Hideous as all hell which is probably why it was discontinued by the manufacturer, but Gavin loves – loved it – and there's going to be a fair amount of bitching about that in his future.

Ryan rolls the body up in the rug and manages to drag it into the tiled kitchen to minimize cleanup later on, and that's about all he has left in him at the moment. Knows what a bad idea it is to leave the damn thing there, but he's tired and bleeding and honestly, they have people for this.

Or, you know. 

_Geoff_ has people for this, so.

Ryan makes a token effort at dealing with the graze. It's deeper than he thought at first, but the bleeding's stopped and it's not as though something like that's going to kill him after everything else so far has failed, so.

Ryan cleans it and slaps a bandage over it, hands a little clumsy from exhaustion and coming off adrenaline.

He makes a phone call, or is pretty sure he does because he has his phone in his hand and there's a familiar voice on the other end. Appropriately tired of his bullshit because Ryan tends to make this kind of call a lot, given his role in the crew.

After that he decides sleep would be fantastic, and the bedroom's still too far away. Plus, he's gotten enough blood on Gavin's nice things for one day, and he's always been kind of _meh_ on that couch of his.

“Suck it, Gavin,” he mutters, tired and hurting and very much still a twelve year-old boy at heart.

========

The next time he wakes up it's to Gavin fussing over him, hands fluttering over Ryan's ribs as he pinches and pokes -

Going perfectly still when Ryan reaches over, fingers curling around his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

It's pretty obvious what Gavin's doing, first-aide kit spread out on the coffee table and lights on enough for him to see what he's doing. Ryan's shirt pulled up to reveal the bad patch job he'd done on the bullet graze, the look on Gavin's face.

Equal parts worried and annoyed - 

_“Is that fucker awake? Tell him he can go fuck himself if he is, fucking asshole!”_

Michael and his sweet nothings.

Ryan's gaze slides back to the coffee table where he sees Gavin's phone, realizes he has Michael on speakerphone for some reason.

“Ah, yes, thank you so much, Michael. He is indeed awake,” Gavin says, tugging at his wrist and Ryan lets go immediately. “Not dead, so that's good I suppose.”

Michael snorts, “Small favors, then. Keep him alive long enough for Geoff to yell at him.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and settles back to let Gavin continue to stitch the graze up while Michael talks him through it, which.

Not necessary, really, given the fact Gavin's not bad at this kind of thing, but there's this little frown on his face, and he's not quite meeting Ryan's eyes.

And for all Michael is being very uniquely Michael with Gavin, there's a softness to it he tends to get around Gavin when he knows Gavin won't tolerate coddling.

Ryan stays quiet, watching Gavin as he works, laughing a little when he ends the call with Michael and then there's a bit of awkward silence while Gavin cleans up.

“Hey,” Ryan says. 

Gavin sighs, stopping what he's doing to turn to Ryan.

“You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”

Gavin says it the same way anyone else would tell someone to stop drinking directly from the carton or to take their shoes off when they get inside so they don't track mud on the carpet. Like Ryan does this on a regular basis. 

Which, no, he does _not_ , contrary to what the others seem to think.

For one, that's where he cooks, more often than not. Rescuing Gavin from whatever horrid concoction he's created this time when he can't be bothered to order take-out or. Where he eats, grabbing something to eat in between jobs or some other time when there isn't time to sit down and eat a meal like an actual human being.

“Well,” Ryan says, like they're negotiating this. “I'll think about it if you tell someone when there's a fucking hit out on you, how about that?”

Gavin winces, and Ryan can see him working through several responses, evasions in his head and really isn't in the mood for them just now. Not when someone made it past the others. Through Gavin's security, made it into his fucking _home_.

“Tell someone,” Ryan says, no give in his voice because for all that Gavin is so incredibly brilliant, he's – as anyone who knows him can attest – a goddamned idiot. “I don't care who, just tell someone.”

Gavin gets this look to him sometimes, stubborn as hell and this weird kind of stupid. Like he thinks they give a shit why someone wants him dead – and, okay, they do, just not for whatever reason he thinks.

“Do you want dead bodies in your kitchen?” Ryan asks, because pushing Gavin too hard is always going to be a mistake. “This is how you get dead bodies in your kitchen.”

“Jesus, Ryan,” Gavin says, stuck somewhere between laughing and being suitably appalled at the weird shit Ryan says. 

He looks less like the kind of idiot who keeps his crew in the dark when he's in trouble, even though Ryan knows for a fact that's never going to stop. Might get a little less terrifying if they keep drilling it into his head that he's not on his own anymore, that they have his back no matter what.

“Sorry about the rug,” Ryan says, even though he really isn't, as Gavin is well aware.

“You hated it,” Gavin points out, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don't think you're really sorry.”

Ryan shrugs because _no_ , but -

“We could replace it,” he offers, wondering if he could get Matt to track a duplicate down somewhere. 

Gavin gives Ryan a look, fond and exasperated, and says, “Or we could forget about the damn thing and get some sleep? You look terrible.”

Gavin's clearly been picking up tips on how to sweet-talk people from Michael.

“Lovely,” Ryan says, long practice allowing him to mimic Gavin perfectly as he takes the hand Gavin holds out to him because that sounds fantastic.


End file.
